The Butterfly Effect
by xkohleyesx
Summary: Flitting from object to object, person to person, the butterfly hesitated, hovering for a moment in front of a distracted brunette man’s face, before oh, so gently touching its six legs to the tip of his nose...


The monarch alighted over the honest president's uncapped head. Floating down the Georgian marble forearm, the butterfly paused for a moment. Perched atop the statue's partially outstretched fist, its compound eyes took in the sight before it:

Robin's egg blue sky, white, fluff clouds drifting by, the heavens mirrored perfectly in the memorial's reflecting pool.

Wafting on a breeze, the butterfly drifted down the ivory-shaded steps of the monument and skimmed the water's surface, dipping its appendages ever so slightly against the liquid's tension, before once again taking flight.

It had been a wonderfully successful day of travel for the butterfly. The warm airs of Mexico City were long behind it and in no time it would be back home, greeted by a mildly cooler spring and plenty of flowers.

Pausing momentarily on a fresh, green leaf budding from a nearby tree, the monarch continued its trek. Crossing a small road, it quickly entered the bustling downtown of the nation's capital city.

Flitting from object to object, person to person, the butterfly hesitated, hovering for a moment in front of a distracted brunette man's face, before oh, so gently touching its six legs to the tip of his nose.

---

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo's blue eyes went cross as he focused on the object resting atop his nose.

The voice of Timothy McGee filtered in from behind him.

---

"Tony, I don't see why we're checking this guy's apartment out _again_." McGee said distractedly, a mild tinge of annoyance coating his words as he examined (yet again) the report on the Petty Officer's case.

Signing heavily, McGee scrubbed a hand over his face, forcing his eyes to focus once more on the words splayed across the page.

"Why don't we just head back and tell Gibbs it was a bust? We both know there isn't any more to find at the P.O.'s place…" McGee knew the knew the idea was absurd before he'd even said it but damnit, he was tired of fruitless effort! Two weeks and no leads on the murder case and even the best agent would be somewhat irked.

Bracing himself slightly, McGee waited for the inevitable wake-up call to the back of the head he (admittedly) rightly deserved.

Moments passed and nothing happened.

Curious (and more than a little nervous as well), McGee raised his gaze from the file folder and turned to stare questioningly at the senior field agent.

"Oh, wow, Tony. Look at that," McGee spoke with the tinniest bit of awe as he caught sight of the source of Tony's distraction, quickly forgetting the threat of a head slap.

Taking in the monarch butterfly (or _Danaus plexippus_)'s blazing wings and bright white spots, McGee admired the insect's intricate design. For whatever reason or another, McGee had recently found his interests drawn towards the field of entomology, and, after several books and much research into the topic, his enthusiasm for the event could not be contained. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Once more, McGee went unacknowledged by his partner.

"Tony…"

Silence.

McGee turned his attention away from the monarch, inspecting the transfixed stare residing in the Italian's straining blue eyes.

"Tony?" McGee questioned. Mild concern tinged his words.

---

Perhaps it was the tone of McGee's voice or the sound of his own name, but whatever it was, Tony was quickly released from the terrifyingly mesmerizing hold the insect had lorded over him.

With an aghast look, and without a second thought, Tony slapped a hand quickly to his face.

Hard.

---

The butterfly floated quietly away from the man's potentially deathly grasp as the appendage met its target with a sharp and succinct _slap_.

It hovered for a moment, wafting gently in a small updraft before once again touching down on the man's swooping brown hair.

---

Rubbing his now reddening face, Tony turned his assault to the top of his head, where, once more, the butterfly evaded his moves. The silent ballet of attack and evasion continued for several moments, Tony's arms flailing about his body wildly, failing repeatedly to even touch the insect.

Frantically, Tony dashed through the crowd of pedestrians moving through the crosswalk in his own attempt at evasion. Distantly, he heard the sound of someone yelling, a high-pitched screech that sent chills running the course of his spine as it harmonized marvelously with the myriad of honks and beeps and gasping voices surrounding him.

---

It was several moments before Tony's movement stilled. His breathing slowly followed suit, coming in short, tight gasps of air, doing little to still the frantic pounding in his chest.

Tony's gaze traced the butterfly's wafting path as it retreated as quickly as it had come. He scowled angrily, watching it flit casually amongst the stopped and honking vehicles, as if it were completely oblivious to the fact that it had most likely ruined EVERYTHING.

It was at that moment that Tony's ear picked up on the mild hysterics coming from behind him.

Frowning fiercely, Tony turned his steely glare on the doubled-over junior agent.

"If you tell anyone about this, Probie- and I mean _anyone_- I'll shoot you." Tony threatened through clenched teeth, attempting and failing to regain his composure. Wearily, he cast a sidelong glance for the insidious insect (though it had long drifted out of sight) before returning his ire on the guffawing brunette man. "I may not be a forensic scientist like Abby, and not be able to leave a trace, but frankly, it won't matter if I do: _they'll never find your body to test_."

"_Do you understand_, Timothy?" Tony hissed, using the man's first name as a mild warning, demonstrating that he was, indeed, _very _serious.

McGee merely nodded a tear-streaked face. His body still wracked with laughter as he slowly lowered himself to the ground, one hand grasping desperately at the nearest parking meter, the only thing keeping him from collapsing altogether. Rocking back and forth on the pavement, he clutched his sides gleefully.

---

---

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[[ Yet another FML-inspired fic (though, admittedly I'm far more intrigued by MLIA now- thank you, SharadaGirl!):

_Today, I literally stopped traffic. I was crossing the street and a butterfly landed on me. Being phobic of butterflies, I had a panic attack in the middle of the road. Oh, and I am 17, captain of our football team, and in very good shape. My girlfriend laughed the hardest. FML_

Not really sure why but when I read this one, I IMMEDIATELY thought of Tony :D

It's not my greatest work, but I wanted to finish it (and finally get the file off my desktop!) and I think it's still really funny :D Hope you enjoyed it! ]]


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